Florence's Silence
by ByTheTextbook
Summary: Florence is just a thirteen-year-old girl whose best friends are books. She meets someone who will help her on her journey through Hogwarts. Rated K  just to be safe. Please read and review; constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
1. Interruptions and Intrigue

**Author's Note: I don't own Hogwarts, the houses, or anything else that sounds familiar. I'm not J.K. Rowling, but I wish I was. Please review.**

* * *

**Florence's Silence - Chapter One**

The whistle blew. The engines began to sound. It was exactly eleven o'clock on the crisp, sweet, September first. This was Florence's favorite day. This was when all of her senses began to come alive. The sleek, shiny red paint of the train was imprinted on the inside of her cloudy blue-grey eyes. The smell of cauldron cakes and sugary pumpkin juice filled the almost empty cabin on the Hogwarts Express. Florence's scratchy, yet comforting robes that lay deep within her bag brushed her skin.

Perhaps this would be a good year, Florence thought. Three years. Florence was required to take the core subjects, of course, but as electives went, she chose Divination, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Her eleven classes may be a bit excessive, but without the distractions of friends or relationships, Florence thought the workload would be fairly easy to accomplish.

Florence looked around at the cabin. She enjoyed this, the silence. It put her at peace. The noise of Quidditch games and common room parties was distracting and, frankly, annoying to Florence. While others may enjoy the social aspect of school, Florence didn't. To her, school was strictly about getting an education, in order to receive a sturdy job with a steady income. There would be times to make friends in the future, Florence told herself, wouldn't there?

"Anything off the cart?" A voice interrupted Florence's peace. She fumbled around in her near-empty pockets for a few bronze knuts. She took a nice pumpkin pasty from the cart without speaking a word. The kind woman took the dingy old coins from Florence's slender hand, smiled softly, and pedaled off. The small treat should suffice for the rest of the trip. Once Florence had nibbled the last bite of the pasty, she scurried off to change into her silver and blue robes. These robes made Florence feel normal. Safe. Average. Those robes made Florence feel like she was part of something larger; a greater cause. Florence smiled mutely to herself.

While walking back to her cabin, Florence noticed something. There was now someone sitting in her cabin. A fellow Ravenclaw, she guessed by the robes. He looked oddly familiar. Perhaps she had seen him in the common room? Maybe he was in her classes? Florence just couldn't remember. She could typically remember everything- everything in books that is. Perhaps faces just weren't her strong suit? Florence had never really tried to remember people. Still thinking, she plopped herself down outside the cabin door, which was rhythmically tapping against the door jam from the wind. Florence plopped down outside the door, bags and all, and began to delve deeper into the depths of _Ancient Runes: A Beginner's Guide_. The rapping of the door against its' frame gave her a good, steady beat to read to.

Just a few pages later, as Florence was arriving at _Chapter Nine: Runes in South Africa_, the tapping stopped. Florence lost her reading flow. She glanced up. A boy was leaning against the doorframe, watching her read. His vibrant green eyes pierced through her boring, gloomy ones. And he wasn't smiling, but he didn't look angry or sad either. Just observing her, Florence. Nobody ever noticed Florence, and nobody ever interrupted her either. He kept her gaze; it felt like a competition of sorts. Who would speak first, if anyone? It certainly wouldn't be Florence.

"You can come in, you know. I mean, you don't have to, but if you want to, the offer's open." the boy said. Florence looked around, straight-faced. The boy left the slider open. He seemed quiet, yet friendly and curious; in the compartment he took out a sketchbook and began drawing the window and surrounding wall. Hesitant, Florence picked up her bags, sat down on the seat opposite the boy, and opened her book yet again. The silence was not awkward, just comfortable. This was never the kind of silence that was around Florence. Florence's silence was always due to her lack of social skills, and also that her face was always buried in a book, even if she was not always reading it. Florence's silence was people staring at her. This wasn't Florence's silence, and she liked that. The boy snapped Florence out of her daydream by turning toward her, closing his sketchbook, and flipping the muggle pencil behind his ear, all in one swift motion.

"Ancient Runes? Challenging. I'm taking that class, too." Florence stared at him, wide eyed. "So, who are you?" the boy said. She had not expected this; she was enjoying the silence. Florence opened her mouth, as the words were trying to escape but it came out as more of a choking sound.

"I guess I'll start. I'm Lucas. Evans. I'm a Ravenclaw, third year. And you?"

"Um, F-Florence." She said in almost a whisper. Lucas almost didn't catch it.

"It's a nice name." And the silence ensued again, this time until the train stopped. Along the way, they shared a glance at one another every so often, but mostly, Lucas drew, and Florence read. The engines let out steam and slowed.

"Would you like to sit with me? At the feast? I mean, you're in Ravenclaw, I can tell by your robes." Lucas said in a rush. Florence nodded, with a small smile. She followed his dark hair with difficulty in the darkness. They sat in a carriage with a rather loud group of fifth-year Hufflepuff; this irked them both.

Once at the castle, Lucas and Florence took seats across from each other at the end of the table closest to Headmaster Dumbledore. The Sorting Hat's song soon finished, and the sorting began. Florence listened intently to each new students' title, trying to memorize the names and faces of all the new Ravenclaw. While Lucas cheered loudly at each new student who entered the house, Florence stared at him, and the rest of the table, in confusion.

And after the freckled "Yesterley, Ezra" was pronounced a Hufflepuff, the feast began. Lucas dug right in, scarfing down a rather large helping of mashed potatoes and chicken drumsticks. Florence reached for the bowl of roasted asparagus, which remained untouched by the other students. She scooped four or five onto her plate, and began slowly cutting it up, knife in her left hand, and placing the small bits of stalk and tip into her mouth. Florence noticed Lucas staring at her again, the same watchful expression on his pale, but healthy face.

"Is that all you're going to have?" he said wonderingly, after Florence's plate was clear and she had placed the unscathed napkin that was once sitting in her lap back onto the wooden table. Florence nodded, confused. Five stalks of asparagus were plenty for her small appetite. The desserts appeared on the table, the scent astounding.

"But look at this dessert! It's magnificent! This only comes about once a year, and the closest we get to this is Christmas. Shouldn't you enjoy it while you can?"

"I…I had a pasty, earlier…" said Florence, in her timid yet dreamy voice. For Florence to put together a sentence that was not a fact was unbelievable. Most of her own words were either, "Yes," "No," or the answer to a professor's question, and even those were hardly ever audible over the chatter of other students.

Lucas looked at her in astonishment, for when he got on the train and away from his family, sugar was one of the first things on his mind. He shrugged and shook his head violently, as if to get some excess water out of his ear.

"To each his own, I guess…" And he scooped a fairly large amount of vanilla pudding on to his plate, which was already taken up by four different flavors of cake. Florence watched Lucas scoop the pudding into his mouth furiously, getting most of the creamy treat on his nose. Florence gave a silent giggle, but the corners of her mouth gave a flicker of a grin, and Lucas noticed.

"What?" he asked, truly not knowing what he had done that was so worthy of her chuckle. Florence gave a gesture to her own nose, and Lucas got the hint. He grabbed his unused napkin and wiped his nose of the pudding. He gave a chuckle, also, and blushed a bit. The fast was soon over, and Professor Dumbledore gave the school a last word of encouragement. The prefects led the students to their dormitories, and the rather pompous prefect that the Ravenclaw house had the pleasure to receive advised them all to get to bed, though it was just seven o'clock.

Nobody complied. This first night was always full of parties, toasts, and general merriment. Seizing the moment, Florence began to unpack. She laid out her clothes for the next morning, and set her new wizarding alarm. Unlike muggle clocks, when this alarm went off, only Florence would be able to hear it. This was beneficial considering that she awoke at five o'clock every morning just to avoid seeing her roommates. Once the meticulous unpacking was complete, Florence grabbed her Ancient Runes book, which she only had 16 pages left of, and walked down the stairs to the common room, where there was still a lot of noise. Florence placed some muggle earplugs in her ears to avoid distraction. While all of the chatter wasn't _completely _blocked out, it brought the level down by a few decibels.

Once Florence had finished, she began to walk up the stairs back to the dormitory to review the other textbooks she read, which was all of them. Halfway up the staircase, she felt a pull on the back of her robes, nearly dragging her back down the spiral staircase. It was Lucas. She hadn't seen him since two hours ago at the feast. She concluded he must have gone to the common room party. He looked at Florence with his soft and sincere smile.

"Hey." Lucas said, his eyes again peering directly into hers.

"Hello." Florence's voice was inaudible over the crowd, but Lucas was skilled at lip-reading.

"Did you go to the party?" asked Lucas. Florence shook her head, and indicated toward her book. He nodded, "I didn't stay long. It was mostly just a lot of snogging and dancing. The music was horrible." Florence bobbed her head in agreement, not that she had been able to hear it once her earplugs were in, but from what she could deduce, it was fairly horrific. There was a silence; this time, an awkward one. Neither of them really had anything else to say to one another. Then again, neither one wanted to leave this newfound company.

"Well…" Lucas began. He ran a hand through his almost black hair. "So, what classes are you taking? I've got all the basics, Ancient Runes, and Divination."

"Um, the same. Uh, plus A-arithmancy." Florence said in a rush, not looking him in the eyes anymore.

"Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I get it. But you looked pretty lonely on the train, so I was just trying to help. To be a friend. It didn't look like you had any. Sorry to disturb you." He whipped around and began to walk away. This time, Florence was the one to grab robes. Lucas turned around again. He gave her a stony look.

"Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. T-to come off…that way. Uh, sorry. S-sorry." The sincerity in her eyes told Lucas that she meant it. She was truly apologizing, and her timidity was just her personality.

"Alright." Lucas said with a slight edge to his voice. "But if we're going to be real friends, I need to know more than just your first name. Come on." Fighting the smile that was appearing on his face, he outstretched a hand. Florence was hesitant. Slowly but surely, she took it. Lucas dragged her to a small "studying room" off of the common room.

"Let's play twenty questions. I'll ask you twenty things about yourself, and you have to answer them, no matter what." said Lucas with a smirk.

"That's…that's unfair. I get th-three questions that I c-can say no to." Florence spoke shakily. She still wasn't used to this whole talking to other people thing.

"Deal. Number one: Full name?"

"Florence Charlotte Eloise Violet McKinnon."

"Three middle names?" Florence nodded.

"Number two-"

"No. Three. "

"What?"

"T-the middle names t-thing. That was a question." Lucas began to argue, but she was right. To his dismay, that _was _a question.

"Fine, number_ three_. Any brothers or sisters?"

"No."

"What are your parents like?

"P-pass." Odd, Lucas thought. He expected her to save it for one of the juicier questions. He thought it would be better not to push it; Florence was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable since Lucas uttered the word "parents."

"Alright. Four: any pets?"

"No."

"Not even an owl?" Florence shook her head.

"Five-"

"Six." Lucas sighed. Was she always this observant, this detailed?

"Okay. Six. Favorite color?"

"I…don't think I have one. I-I never really thought about it." Again, Lucas thought, odd. Who doesn't have a favorite color? If you couldn't decide, that was one thing. But for a kid to not think about it? This girl was a mystery.

"Seven: Favorite food?"

"Asparagus." This was expected. Since it was the only thing she ate at the feat, it _must_ have been her favorite. Lucas smiled at her.

"Eight," he began with a chuckle, "Greatest fear?"

"Failure, I think. B-being a disappointment." Deep. Lucas' biggest fear was rats. Her answer felt so much mature compared to his.

"Nine: What's one thing that you_ know _you're great at?"

"School." Expected.

"Ten- we're halfway done- ever had a best friend?"

"No."

"…Ever had a friend?" he uttered, almost silently, though he was fairly sure that he already knew the answer.

"Pass." Lucas could tell that his instinct was correct. The answer was no. Lucas was her first ever friend. He felt special, yet worried. What if her first friend turned out to be a letdown? He tried not to let the thought enter his mind. He would be her friend, no matter what.

"Ele- Uh, twelve," Lucas caught himself. "Any nicknames?"

"No."

"Do you want one?"

"N-not entirely. Sorry."

"Fourteen: Happiest memory?"

"My first day at Hogwarts. Maybe." That was her happiest memory? I guess that was as good a memory as any, but starting school? Whatever, to each his own, Lucas always said.

"Ever been to a wedding?"

"I think, once. When I was l-little."

"A funeral?"

"…Yes." No explanation. Again, Lucas wasn't going to push it. She obviously did not want to elaborate. Florence twiddled her thumbs nervously in her lap. A small silence filled the room.

"Okay. Well… Wait, what question are we on?"

"Sixteen. Seventeen, now."

"You're tricky!" The edges of Florence's mouth twitched upward. Lucas laughed, "What's your wand made of?"

"Dogwood and oak, and a phoenix feather core. Eight inches." The length made sense- she was fairly petite. No more than 5'2".

"Nice. Mine's yew and vinewood. Dragon Heartstring. Flexible. Thirteen inches. Eighteen: Dream job?"

"Auror. Or a professor. M-maybe I'll work for the ministry? I'm not sure. S-something that makes a d-difference."

"Nineteen. We're almost done. Favorite holiday?"

"Halloween." Interesting. She didn't seem the type. He would have guessed Christmas. Or Easter. Halloween? Lucas wondered why, but didn't want to waste his last question.

"Final question: What's your home like?"

"Pass."

She was an interesting one. Lucas was perplexed. Intrigued. Not in the romantic sense, no, but he wish he had another twenty questions to ask her; Perhaps another day. Lucas lay in his bed, wondering all of these things. He had a new friend, and he was Florence's first real friend. He would make this friendship count.


	2. Firsts, In More Ways Than One

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; I'm not J.K. Rowling.**

Lucas awoke rather early the next day, jitters in his stomach for the first day of classes. He washed, dressed, and combed his hair (for once.) Lucas flew down the stairs to the common room. Assuming nobody would be there yet, he hopped over the midnight blue couch and sat. A thud was heard; a large book hitting the floor. Lucas gasped.

"Florence!"

"Shh! E-everyone is still asleep." Lucas' rapidly beating heart slowed. He picked up her book. _The Hound of the Baskervilles_. It sounded familiar. It was probably a muggle novel that Lucas had seen in a London bookstore. Snapping out of his daydream, he handed the tattered book back to Florence.

"Thanks."

"What are you doing up so early? It's like, 6:30."

"Reading. I've been up since f-five." Lucas looked her in the eyes. Florence's darted away.

"May I ask why?"

"I-I'm an early riser, I suppose?" Lucas chuckled. She was so matter-of-fact. Nice, but brusque. He got the impression that Florence wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"Alright then." Lucas let Florence get back to her book. She flew through the pages; Lucas didn't understand how she could read something at such light-speed and still comprehend it. He snatched the book out of her hand. Florence gave him a look of indignation mixed with confusion.

"What's it about? The book?" Lucas asked. Florence hesitated, but responded at an equal speed of which she was reading,

"W-well, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson theorize who the owner of a cane is. It was left in their office, but they don't really know by whom. Holmes predicts the advent of James Mortimer, who owns the object. He comes into the office and shows off an old manuscript. Mortimer tells the story of the lascivious Hugo Baskerville. Hugo kidna-"

"Okay." Lucas put a hand up. Florence looked slightly embarrassed. He handed Florence back her book.

"You read really fast, is all. I couldn't tell if you were actually reading, or just skimming." Florence nodded in cognition. Lucas pulled a pencil out from behind his ear and began to sketch again. Just like on the train, Lucas thought. Again, a pleasant quietude, with only the crackling of the fire permeating the air.

A while later, a stair from behind them creaked. Someone had woken up and was coming down to the common room. Florence immediately packed up and hastened through the portrait hole. She moved so fast and instant, it made Lucas flinch. He closed up his sketchbook and ran after her. The girl who was coming down from the dormitories didn't notice; she was too busy fixing her mascara.

As Lucas got out of the portrait hole, he spotted Florence walking down the stairs.

"Oi! Florence!" She kept walking. Lucas sighed and quickened his pace. She was still reading her novel, clutching tightly to the railing with one hand, as not to go tumbling down the marble staircase. Lucas caught up to her and grabbed the book out of her hands once more. He stared at her, mouth agape, with a look that said, _"What was that?"_

"Why'd you run off like that?"

"Uh…" Florence thought on her feet, trying to make up a good excuse,

"Breakfast time?" she said, but not very convincingly. Lucas' eyebrows said everything: _"Do you really expect me to believe that?"_ Florence looked uncomfortable. She scratched her hairline, and her feet shuffled. She looked down at the floor. Lucas recognized this. He sighed again, trying to read her; to find out what she was thinking; what was bothering her. He failed. Her signals were indecipherable.

"Well." Lucas gave her a soft smile, "Let me join you." He began to walk, but Florence stood still. He turned around. Florence pointed to the flimsy paperback that lay in Lucas' hands. Lucas shook his head and handed it back to her. This time, when he started down the stairs, she followed; one hand on the book, one on the railing.

The Great Hall was fairly empty. Florence sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table closest to the door. Lucas grabbed sausages and bacon, topped them with maple syrup, and began to dig in. Florence took a piece of toast and topped it with banana slices. In her opinion, Lucas' breakfast was absolutely revolting. Once the Great Hall began to fill up, Lucas saw Florence begin to get nervous again. She buried her nose in the book and wouldn't talk; not that Lucas would have been able to hear her meek voice over the crowd. The bell signaling the start of classes sounded. Florence was the first one to leave the table. Lucas followed.

"You've Transfiguration first, too?"

"Mhm." Florence brushed a curly lock out of her face, still reading. Once at the classroom, she took out her wand and laid it at the far end of the desk. Lucas sat down next to her.

Professor McGonagall took out her wand and tapped it on the mahogany podium at the head of the class, just in front of Florence and Lucas. Florence stared intently at the teacher, taking in every word she said.

"Class, since today is your first day of lessons, let's review from last year. You see on your desk a large pile of rhubarbs. Everyone, rhubarbs to rutabagas, go!"

With a tap, a swish, and a timid muttering of _"Rivegifors,"_ the long, red plant made its way into a perfect rutabaga.

"Excellent memory, Miss McKinnon. Twenty points to Ravenclaw!" McGonagall began to roam around the room, scolding a rather dim-witted Slytherin who had somehow managed to switch his rhubarbs to rhinoceros beetles.

"Great job," Lucas whispered to Florence. The corner of her mouth turned slightly up, and she uttered a "thanks".

At supper, Lucas tried to start up a conversation, for they hadn't had a truly in-depth conversation since the Game.

"So, are you trying out for Quidditch?" he asked, shoveling down stuffing like there was no tomorrow.

"No. I-I've never even ridden a broom."

"What about first year? There was Quidditch training then. Madam Hooch was pretty awful, but she still let us ride."

"I didn't have the form signed. I-I wasn't allowed." Florence's voice got even quieter at these words.

"Oh. Well it's pretty easy, I guess."

"A-are you trying out?" this brought Lucas aback a bit. This was the first question Florence had ever asked him. Her question made Lucas feel like he was an active member in the conversation, not just hosting an interview. He smiled at this.

"No. My brother and my sister both play Quidditch, and they're a lot better than I am. Believe me, they tell me that all the time. The only position I'd even consider would be Chaser. It's simple enough, and you get to fly all over the field; not as much pressure as a Seeker or a Keeper, and you typically don't have bludgers flying at you every half a minute."

"Interesting."

"You didn't know?" Florence shook her head. Lucas gawked at her in disbelief.

"Haven't you ever been to a game?" Again, Florence shook her head.

"It doesn't sound that appealing. I-I mean, the sport itself, sure. I-I'm sure it's great, otherwise, why would your family like it. But a-all the noise… But I'm sure it's a good game," Lucas smiled to himself. The look on her face; like she thought she had done something terrible, like an insult to his family, by badmouthing Quidditch.

"It's fine, don't worry." He laughed and messed with his dark chocolate brown hair. A look of relief washed over Florence's face.

"Well, I think I'm going to go back up to the common room. Want to come?" Florence nodded. They walked back up the long staircase to Ravenclaw Tower in peace. The level of sound was shockingly low in comparison to that of the Great Hall. Once through the portrait hole, Florence sat down on the midnight blue armchair, while Lucas sprawled out on the couch, head and sketchbook facing Florence.

She closed her book and closed her eyes. The tenth chapter of the book was finished. Such a great last sentence: _I swear that another day shall not have passed before I have done all that man can do to reach the heart of mystery._ The characters in her books were always so brave, so bold. _They all would have been Gryffindors_, Florence thought._._ The velvet of the chair was soft and worn; she could have fallen asleep right then. Florence let out a small yawn.

"I think I'm going to start my homework. How about you?" While Lucas had only known Florence for a day, it seemed very un-Florence to leave homework until the last minute.

"A-already finished." Predictable.

"Perfect! You can keep me company." Lucas proclaimed with enthusiasm. While he was a Ravenclaw, homework wasn't his favorite thing in the world. Thankfully, the first day didn't consist of much to do. A diagram of a centaur, a list of ingredients for the pus reducing potion, and practicing a few charms.

During the end of Lucas' work, Florence dozed off, her book tightly clutched to her chest. As Lucas got his papers together, he sat on the arm of the chair she was curled up in. Calm, peaceful. As if nothing could ever bother her. Her brow had uncurled from the worried expression it had all day. Her lips were slightly parted, taking slow and consistent breaths. Lucas tapped her on the shoulder. She stirred.

"Hey, sleepy-head. Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted to sleep here in the common room. It's about eleven thirty." Florence took a deep breath in.

"Thank you." She walked up to the girl's dormitory, novel in hand.

"Good night." Lucas called. Florence turned around.

"Good night. A-and thank you, again."

**Author's Note: So, this chapter is a lot shorter than the previous one, but we're still in exposition mode. Plus, school just started and I'm taking a lot of Honors and AP Courses. I will try to make time to write more, if you guys want me to. please review, it would mean a lot. Constructive criticism greatly appreciated.**


End file.
